2006-01-03
The Spark
On the way home from a work-related meeting last night, I had this idea that I might stop talking. Like, would people get it? Would people be okay with me no longer opening my mouth to talk? Would it be offensive to people who can't talk because of physical challeneges, or would they understand because they would have some kind of higher understanding of the absolute power that verbal communication has.
There's something about the tone of my voice that doesn't appeal to people... you know those types. You've met them, or maybe you are them. Those people are not good at talking. They don't mean to hurt your feelings but they do.
They don't want to make you feel small or sad but they do - they leave you feeling kind of uncomfortable and weird.
I'm one of those people lately.
I can't communicate unless I am doing with my body or with my writing and lately, even the writing is being put to the test.
I can't even write and be received without judgement or inconclusive concluding. Between yesterday and today, I've faltered at work, with my family, and with the Viking over falied attempts to explain that I'm just this person, SARAH and that I know myself pretty well.
I don't get why suddenly, there is a longer list of people who are uncomfortable when I speak to them than the list that names the people who are not. Actually there are only two people who haven't gotten upset with me in the last two days and one of them is no longer living - I just talk to him because that's what you do when nobody else can hear you, right?
Anways, lately, with my family and with my boyfriend, and with work, there are emails and conversations that are not working.
I don't mean not working to my favor...
I mean they are not.
Working.
And people think I am attacking them, or being contrary to be difficult, or being foolish.
I'm just not.
I'm none of the above. The above imply a fighting spirit and I'm not a fighter, you know?
I get in a ring and all I know how to do is dance around, like a boxer who knows that if she gets hit, she's down and that's IT; but who also knows that if she waits long enough and puts out a couple of weak hits for show, her opponent will tire and she can get out of that godforsaken ring.
People see me as argumentative and brash though. They see me as being calculating and hard and I think they see that because I'm smart - they expect more from me than I really have to give.
Or they expect something vile when there's nothing but dumb-dog loyalty and respect.
That's it, maybe... the expectations of the people around me are too high. I'm not anything more than Sarah and while being just Sarah is awesome in an "Up With People" kind of way, it's not awesome in a leadership way. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean that I think I know everything, it doesn't mean that I donk't want you to tell me what to do and what the best way to do it is, and it doesn't mean that I would try to pull a fast one.
I'm not a fast person - I can't even understand that if the balloon is in the air, helium is in the balloon.
But people see me first for being smart and it's not necessarily a blessing. When I do something, or say something that's not so smart or not so well-said, there's this pause of nauseating length and in me, the panic over knowing that I am about to get schooled over stuff that I don't understand beings to spiral out of control.
At work, it's why can't you do this like I told you to? I know you understand it.
In my family, it's why are you a failure? I know you are capable of so much more.
In my relationship, it's why do you talk down to me? You don't have to be so rude.
My innermost heart, and believe me, with all the fucking yoga that I do and all the meditating and reflecting bullshit, I KNOW what is in my innermost heart...
what my innermost heart is SCREAMING for is for the places and the people I love to PLEASE just see me as SARAH. I'm a person who daydreams a lot, who isn't particularly motivated, and who can't understand some of the most basic concepts.
That's it.
I mess stuff up at work sometimes. I do my best but I transpose a number, or I ask a question that someone feels defensive about answering. Maybe I don't get it and you have explained it 12 times. SARAH messes up at work sometimes.
At home - I'm working on it. Give me what I've gotten so far. It;s never enough, I know. It's never going to be my sister's house or my cousin's athletic prowess, or my grandmother's achievment but god - it's ME. Ot's not some self-destructive delusion. It's me. it's SARAH.
Mon Dieu. The Viking. He's the smartest person I know. He knows how to make dogs sit still and he knows how to make movies and how to read critically. His voice drives me crazy with how much of it there is and how strong it is. His heartbeat is so strong that it's palpable from across a room.
But even he told me I am dismissive.
My heart is breaking on that one.
.
.
.
I'm not a person who needs a life-coach, smoking, or a lot of money to figure out that going from day-to-day is a big, fat, gorgeous feeling. Having almost offed myself last year, I'm pretty fucking happy with where I am now and I want to enjoy it for a minute.
I'm thrilled that the last time I left Tempe, I had no feelings of nervousness while I drove.
I'm elated that I did a handstand all by myself the other night.
I'm delighted that I got all those things mailed on time.
I'm doing these little things and I'm trying to not hurt anyone and in the end, I'm still disappointing.
Disappointment is not my intention.
You know?
And yet, lately, the things that I say to anyone who is not Chippers or my dead father - those things are received as though they are nouns and verbs that I have set on fire and lobbed through your open window.
Your retaliation does hurt....
but with all three of you........
I still have this spark, a hope, that later tonight, or maybe even tomorrow, I have this spark of a hope that you'll be able to step back and hear the intention in my words and in my notes.
I hope each of you will hear it and take my hand and tell me that you love me so much and that you know I would never, ever take what you've offered to me and throw it away.
I could throw in some joke here, about not even throwing away scraps of food that are sentimental or something but...
this isn't for the funny.
This is for the real.
arizonasarah at 1:22 p.m.